


medic.tv

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputation, Camboy Medic, Everyone's a little younger, Gun Kink, Guro, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink, gore porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Or, in which Medic basically runs a guro-based camshow, and Heavy is horny.





	medic.tv

Misha had always been a bit on the violent side.

He liked it. What could he say? Who could even blame him? It was the feeling of conquest. Of destroying something. He didn't wanna just go around hurting people, that was wrong, but to find someone with a passion for crude violence like himself would be the best in the world.

It was strange. He'd never felt the urge to hurt someone, but behind a closed door, he was constantly searching for hardcore BDSM porn to get his rocks off to. It would've been a shock to most, as he was quite a nice young man, and since tossing out your fetishes to strangers isn't normal in the slightest, he generally kept it to himself. And it wasn't like it got in the way of his normal life, it just was hard to find a fulfilling sexual relationship... plus, he was running short of hardcore gay pornography.

Why was it always girls? Why did everyone want to see girls suffer?

That was so boring.

The only person he'd really confided in about it was a high school friend named Mundy, another degenerate much like himself. A lot more open about it. He was actually really fucking gross, and to this day Misha didn't know his first name. An Aussie bundle of school shooter jokes and vile fantasies, he was. Somehow they remained friends through high school, and were now both age 19, Mundy very closely bordering on 20. The two of them were out on a Monday stroll after they both happened to interview at the same job. Misha suspected neither of them would get it.

"Iss hot out, mate."

"Yes."

"Just kidding. This is nothin' for me."

Misha rose a brow.

"I don't get joke."

"I- it's- never-fuckin'-mind."

Mundy groaned, shoving his fists in his pockets. He always got frustrated for no reason. Misha would give him a pat on the back, but he'd be enraged. Mundy hated being touched, hated being reassured, hated pretty much everything. But suddenly, the Aussie's face lit up. "So you won't believe what I found las' noight."

"What?" Misha cocked a brow. Probably a cheap old sniper rifle to add to his collection.

"So I was lookin' for some wankin' material and--"

"Don't say that so loud!" Misha smacked Mundy's shoulder a bit, clearly harder than he intended. "We are in public! Lunatic!"

"Jesus Christ. You're such a baby." Mundy rolled his eyes behind his thick aviator sunglasses. Misha suspected they were prescription. "Anyway. I found somethin' I thought you might like while I was perusin' the net. I wrote it down for ya." He slapped a torn and folded post-it note into Misha's hands. He squinted at it.

"Why your handwriting so small."

Mundy didn't respond. Misha managed to, slowly, make out what was written.

_www.medic.tv_

"What this?"

"It's this guy's fuckin' camshow, roight?" Mundy lit himself a cigarette, covering the lighter with his palm. "But this guy, he's fuckin' mental. He'll do anything for a paycheck. He makes a killin' off'a beatin' the shit out of himself. He's way into it, too. He's some kind of ultra-super-masochist."

"Isn't it dangerous? Is he okay?"

"That's the thing! Every week he shows up completely fine. I have no idea how it works, but it's like... iss' hot as fuck. He films every Friday. Ten PM."

"That is today."

"Exactly."

"...You have my attention."

"You can thank me later, mate, this's my house."

Mundy veered off into his own apartment building, leaving Misha with the slip of paper. 

He debated for hours on hours afterwards. Was this okay? What if it was fake? Mundy didn't have any reason to dupe him with a virus website, but he was also a slippery little bastard. He wouldn't be surprised if it was a stupid prank or something. And yet... the lure, the intrigue of the concept drew him in. He mulled over it for hours. He mulled while getting dinner, feeding his cat, cleaning the house, and everything in-between.

Finally, he opened the website at exactly 9:50. It was in fact some kind of streaming site, and was also online. The chat on the side was buzzing with activity. From the video, there was little happening, but a bit of noise. A strange set of gloved hands wheeled in a surgical side table, with some stuff on it that Misha couldn't quite make out. Behind it was presumably a bed covered in tarp. A sign was taped to the wall reading, 'WE WILL BE ON SOON'. On it was a drawing of a syringe with a heart by the needle. 

Misha could hear someone whistling on the stream. The whistling was interrupted by some distant music. Sounded like Rammstein. 

Finally, someone sat down on the tarp. Tall, skinny, dark hair. He wore round, thin-rimmed glasses, a lab coat, and a pair of red rubber gloves. Also some boots that, frankly, looked a bit silly. He hunched forward, blue eyes peering into the screen.

"Ve are online! Guten tag, mein viewerbase!"

Immediately, the chat filled with greetings. A German. No shock there, every porn film from that fuckhouse country was more akin to surrealist theater than sex. "I hope you have had a good veek, each und every von of you! Now for ze newcomers once again I go over my policies..."

He cracked his knuckles, playing with a clean scalpel. Misha was intrigued.

"I am ze Medic. I am eighteen, if you need proof--" The Medic whipped out a driver's license, covering everything except his face and date of birth with his fingers. "I don't vant you stalking me now, do I? Anyvay, I am ze Medic. I do live shows from mein apartment to yours vhere I perform sex acts, often involving grievous bodily harm! I have my ways of fixing it, truuust me!" He idly futzed with the edges of his gloves. "My roommate is an engineer, after all."

Misha tapped his fingers on the desk. "Now to submit a request you hit my donation button below and leave it vis a request! You should be able to add a little note! My prices generally range on how painful and life-threatening it is. If you underpay me I vill not do it until you give me more money!" A sound rang out, a little jingle. "And already I see somevon has donated! Sank you! Let's get started now zat all ze chatter is out of ze vay!"

Nervously, Misha sent a message to the chat.

" _what is he going to do_ "

" _I gave him 75 bucks to shoot himself in the kneecaps._ "

Misha balked a bit, adjusting his collar, as if someone was really there. Looking at him. The Medic, meanwhile, withdrew a revolver from the surgical table. He called out to nobody in particular.

"Dell! Please repair ze floors before tomorrow! Zis is going to be a bit messy!"

Aiming the barrel at his knee, The Medic pulled the trigger without any form of hesitation. He let out a loud shriek, that then devolved into a groan, face going bright red and body immediately breaking out in sweat. His face curled into a crooked smile. Misha felt himself harden in his trousers.  _Holy shit._ Not only was Mundy absolutely not fucking around, he still somehow didn't prepare Misha for what he just saw. This man could very well never walk again, and yet... he just didn't give a fuck.

"Now for ze ozah one!" The Medic panted, grinning, looking sick in the fucking head. The barrel of the gun hit his knee, shaking and making a 'tik-tik-tik' sound. Bang! It went right through the bone, firing a hole through the mattress. Blood gushed out of his knees, he groped at them and scraped the fluid all over himself. Donations were flooding in at this point.

" _ur so cute doktor!!_ "

" _omg is he ok_ "

" _I LOVE YOU DOKTOR!!_ "

Misha tentatively entered his own message.

" _good show medic_ "

"D'oh, sank you! You are all too kind to me! I love each and every von of you." The Medic was excited as a kid on Christmas. His lab coat had fallen back. Underneath, the Medic wore a black chemise, decorated with red lace, as well as a pair of dark nylon stockings. He very obviously had a boner, it stuck out underneath the little skirt. "One of my adoring fans asks,  _herr Medic, can you stab yourself through ze bones?_ " The Medic nodded. "I can try. Sankyou for ze moneeeyyyy!" From the table, he took a pair of scissors. "Where should I put it?"

The chat exploded. Misha groped at his own dick, forehead already slick with sweat.

" _ribs. go for the ribs._ "

"I see legs, arms, ooh! I see ribcage!" He grinned. "My patron did not specify, but it's been awhile! You know, ze rush of chest stabbings is intense!" He pointed the scissors towards himself. They looked sharp, clearly everything had been sharpened beforehand. "You are always mere inches away from ze clutch of death! It could puncture a lung, or ze heart! So many  _vital organs_ in ze chest!" The buildup only made Misha even harder. He could die. He could totally die. "On ze count of  _drei! Ein, zwei,_ "

The Medic drew back. " _drei!_ "

And the scissors went through. They broke through the layer of skin, chipping into the bone. Then he went at it again. And again. Each chip louder and more worrying. With his other hand, Medic groped himself through his chemise. Blood pooled from each jagged edge of the bones, as he continued to dig deeper and deeper. 

"Feels so fucking...  _good! Scheiße!_ "

He continued to chip, and chip The final crack was the kicker. He broke through to the other side, dipping the scissors into an endless red pool and clutching the wound, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. The scissors fell as The Medic doubled over, bearing onto his shattered knees. His gloved hands lifted his skirt up, grabbing onto his panty-clad cock and covering it in blood... He then pulled his hands away.

"Sorry, I got carried away... I shall steel myself. For you!"

The Medic slicked his hair back, as it had plastered against the sweat dotting his forehead. "Got... a donor, asking...  _herr Medic, c_..." The Medic shuddered a bit, clearly excited by whatever was being asked of him. " _can you saw off ze legs? You don't need zem anymore anyhow._ "

He wouldn't. Misha balked a bit. This had to be too much, but... The Medic simply nodded. "I can do zat."

" _YOU WHAT!!!_ "

" _omg herr medic noo_ "

" _< 3 <3 <3_"

Misha nearly glued his eyes to the screen as The Medic grabbed a bone saw off of his table.

"So what we shall do is," The Medic was panting. "We shall cut through ze skin and mascles wiss ze scalpel. Zen we carve through ze middle with ze bone saw. Easy as zat." He grabbed a box of needles. "And my ozah donor wants me to stab my tongue wiss zese needles if I orgasm, _v_ _ich I most likely vill, you animal._ "

" _love u doc_ "

"It vas you? You are so mean, you come here every week asking me zis kind of thing!" The Medic faked motherly disappointment, tutting the user a bit. He took the scalpel, adjusting the camera to show his thigh. "Zis is ze skin layer. Biology students must be learning so much right now!" He took the scalpel, peeling around his thigh in a near-perfect circle, then pulling the skin back, bitin his lip as he did so. Beneath was a sort of pale pinkish-yellowish layer. "Zis is ze fat... fatty layer. And--" The sound of a donation rung out. "You- you want me to eat some of it? Zat's... hooh. Sank you for your patronage," The Medic shuddered a tad, gripping some of the fat with two of his fingers and tearing it away. His whole body tensed up as he did.

Once again adjusting the camera,  Misha could see way into his mouth as The Medic clamped his teeth down onto his  _own_ thigh fat. Grabbing a tissue, Misha attempted to steel himself as well. It was far too early to cum.

Re-angling the camera one more time, The Medic resumed his work, tearing a way a bit more of the fat. "For later!", he said. His body trembled a bit. "Ze rest is all muscle." He took the scalpel, tugging it around in a circle, like a reversed version of a circular saw, almost. He made a few wayward cuts as he became more frantic. "Yes!  _Yes! I'm going to fucking die!_ " The Medic cried out, drawing the circle deeper and deeper until he was interrupted by a grinding sound.

He panted. Misha panted too, slowly jerking himself off.

"Ze best part."

The Medic grabbed the bone saw. Without a word, he buried the saw between the two slabs of leg, beginning to grind the blade into it. His lips curled and he shouted, groaning and grinding himself against the bed. His words were nearly incoherent, as he slobbered on himself. Misha's skin crawled. This had to be illegal. But it felt so...  _right_. 

Letting out a blood-curdling scream, The Medic came in his underwear, visibly. He arched his back, yowled like a dying cat, his whole body tensed up in all the right places as his left leg hung on by a thread of bone. The stain grew on his lace-lined panties, before he pulled them down, allowing the remaining strings of cum to cover his blood-soaked body, the differing densities causing the two fluids to separate into an oddly artful-looking stain.

The Medic's breath was labored.

"I am so sorry. I have been bad. I have been very, very bad." He snapped off the remains of his femur, dropping the limp leg on the floor. Once more shifting the camera, he took the box of needles. "I deserve punishment. I am so sorry." Tears covered The Medic's face, but he didn't look displeased. Matter of fact, Misha had never seen a happier man. And upon laying eyes on his disheveled face, his bloody body, the whole picture with that same crooked smile, Misha came into the tissue as The Medic inserted the first needle into his tongue, shrieking through a mouthful of blood.

He was spent.

As if out of his control, his mouse shifted to the donate button. He jabbed in his credit card number before he could change his mind. He would give 200 dollars, The Medic was clearly willing to do quite a lot for very little, so this was more than enough for what he was about to do.

Trembling, Misha began to write his letter.

_Dear The Medic,_

_My name is Mikhail Volkov. I think I am in love with you. I am in love with the way you are in love with pain._

_I do not expect you to reciprocate these feelings to a man you have never met. I will give you 200 dollars to meet me in person. I can even give you more than that. I live at [ADDRESS], which hopefully isn't too far. I'll even pay for the plane fare if I have to._

He hesitated.

_My dear friend Mundy will pitch in._

Misha nodded. He'd talk Mundy into it somehow.

_I'd like to do things with you. Probably horrible things. I want to see it in real time. I need to. I'll do whatever it takes. If you're not okay with this, it's fine. I will withdraw my offer. You can even keep the money if you wish. But the offer stands. Thank you for reading, and have a lovely day._

_Love, Mikhail_

_P.S. Feel free to call me Misha._

He hit the submit button and held his head in his hands.

_What the fuck was he **doing?**_


End file.
